Falling Stars
by Dusk Reaper
Summary: Vincent gives Tifa a lesson of life. Short oneshot, VincentxTifa slant.


**Author's Note: **Forgive me. I can't say this is my best work. VincentxTifa stories are harder than I thought they would be.

Edit: Darkness take it. I had a lot of mistakes in this. But since this is an edit, I can say this- I love my reviewers.

**Disclaimer: **Right, I'm not brilliant enough to make this game. The characters here belong to Squaresoft.

**Falling Stars**

The smell of cooking supper wafted across the forest, temporarily unheeded by the chatting travelers. The chef hummed quietly to herself as she stirred the simmering soup, gazing at the flickering fire beneath it.

Her gaze wandered towards the leader of the group unconsciously. Despite his normal quiet demeanor, her childhood friend was chatting animatedly with the girl beside him, Aeris. Cloud's thoughts of their mission seemed far away as he laughed with her.

_Yet he always seemed carefree around Aeris_, thought Tifa with a slight pang. _She makes him happy. And that's more than I know I could ever give him._

She forced herself to concentrate upon the dinner, placing several twigs and pieces of bark into the fire to strengthen it. A burst of mirth echoed from Cloud once more, and the martial artist nearly flung the bits of wood in the flames.

"It does not do to despair."

Tifa started and glanced at the speaker. Vincent Valentine stared back impassively, his crimson cloak billowing around him as he quietly sat beside her.

"What are you talking about?" she asked. "I'm not despairing at all."

"Denial is not appropriate either." She huffed as she caught a faint smirk on the gunman's face, not realizing the change in his impassive manner. But she did take note of his sudden eloquent nature. Vincent only spoke this much in a grand total of a week.

"It doesn't bother me," mumbled Tifa. Her eyes softened, and she poked the crackling flames with a branch. "And if it does, it shouldn't. They're my friends, and they look happy. I'm only a hindrance to what they have."

"Unrequited love always makes one feel that way," said Vincent. He traced patterns absentmindedly upon Winchester.

"You speak with the voice of experience."

He didn't answer. Tifa watched a long finger inscribe a name upon the metal slide of his weapon, nearly having to squint to read the faint imprint of oil his finger might have left. However, she merely caught one letter.

_L? Whose name starts with an 'L'?_

Instantly, her memory dispatched her to recall a distant trip to Hojo's laboratory. The gunman had exited looking relatively subdued and more secluded than usual, refusing to speak to anyone. Cloud inquired upon his fabrication, but Vincent never uttered an explanation. Yuffie pestered him for nearly a quarter of an hour before she was silenced by a deathly glare. Afterwards, no one dared to ask.

Did she dare to?

As if he read her mind, Vincent said, "Sometimes, Tifa, you have to tell lies to keep people happy. Lucrecia needed the relief, and I owed her that much. You'll have to lie later, to keep someone else at peace. Radiant acquiescence is far more admirable than disrupting persistence."

Across the campsite, they surreptitiously observed Cloud and Aeris. Cloud's mako-blue eyes twinkled, shining in an unguarded light and mirroring the humor of the flower girl. It was then that Tifa understood. If they ever asked, she knew what she would have to do.

Deny everything, of course.

She turned to Vincent, scrutinizing how serene he seemed as he gazed at the starlit sky, even through a rejected and lost love. He had moved on, or at least, created an enviably believably mask to conceal it all. His scarlet eyes paradoxically shed comfort to her now, which was a gradual change from the cold it exuded at their first meeting…

"Have you ever seen a shooting star, Tifa?"

Tifa blinked. _Random question coming from Vincent…_

"Not really. Midgar's skies were hard to see most of the time. And there were few people who would be outside at night to just look for stars." Tifa placed a pinch of rosemary in the soup and stirred some more. "Why do you ask?"

"They're rather scarce, but they're beautiful," continued Vincent. "Everything in the sky seems to stop to watch them. It lights up the sky so briefly, but it's worth it in the end. There's many ordinary stars, Tifa, and I doubt you shall see only one shooting star among them."

He was saying something and yet also hinting another. She mulled this bit of wisdom over. _Cloud won't be the only one to love in life, Tifa_, he was saying. _There are more falling stars in the night sky._

Before she could open her mouth though, Vincent stood, stowing Winchester within his cloak. A shadow of a smile peeked behind the tall collar. "I must start my shift for night watch now…Good night, Tifa."

Vincent strode a mere two paces when she called his name. "Vincent!"

He paused, and swiveled his head ever so slightly to the side. "Yes, Tifa?"

In the dim light of the woods, her smile glowed, dulling the sparks of the fire. He nearly smiled again himself; it was that contagious. "Thank you. For everything."

"It is nothing. If you ever need to talk…" Vincent let the invitation trail away, knowing she understood.

"I might have to hold you to that," said Tifa ruefully.

"Then I will look forward to our talks."

And awarding her with a rare grin, he disappeared into the night.

**A/N: **Hooray, I don't die by hot oil! (A friend threatened that I should finish this or else I face hot oil. Scary...) Review please? o.o


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